#( terry doesnt know what to do...he needs rest)

[4pfsukuna]

No ordinary love

Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.

Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.

Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.

“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.

“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.

“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.

“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”

And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.

You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.

“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.

“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.

“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.  

“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.

Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail. 

You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.

“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.

And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit. 

Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.

Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.

“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.

“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.

“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.

“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.

“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.

“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.

“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.

“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.

“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.

“One piece” he promises easing your mind  before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”

And you hang up the phone.

The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack  but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.

You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough  life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.

“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.

“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.

Years.

You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.

“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.

“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.

“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.

“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.

“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.

Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse.  You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.

Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems. 

Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.

Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time. 

Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.

You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.

“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.

A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.

“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.

“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.

Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.

“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.

“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.

“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.

“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.

“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.

Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.

“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.

“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.

“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.

“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.

“Yeah… i did miss you”

[soft-persephone]

Let Me In Ch.2

Alex Cross x Fem!Reader • Dark!Terry Richmond x Fem!Reader

MDNI // WC: 4.8k // eventual explicit descriptions of sex and violence// first few chapters are tame but things get more intense as series continues // masterlist // series masterlsit //

summery: Things get weirder with Terry and You have a chance encounter with a stranger.

It's been three days since you haven’t talked to Terry. 

He was away on a mission somewhere and you weren't his secretary this time. 

Good for you. You had two days of pure bliss without him and hopefully more to come. 

“Hey.” 

You look over your monitors. 

Speak of the devil— and perhaps too soon. You have apparently jinxed it. Oh well.

“Hi.” you look back down and go back to work.

“I got you something.”

“Okay.” you keep typing. 

He huffs, but doesnt respond. 

No doubt everyone is turning and gawking at the scene before them. 

Agents who were soldiers are only seen passing through the office, on their way to upper floors to see Bosses, higher ranking officials with aliases and titles they had no knowledge of. You knew more than they did, but even the people on those floors were limited on what they told you. 

In your peripheral you could see him open a lunch bag, or was it a little cooler? 

He takes out a flask, you hear the clanking of porcelain bumping together, a soft glug of him pouring something into a glass. He pushes the little cup towards you. When you look down to see what it is, your heart bursts, threatening  to melt at the tender gesture.

It was hot chocolate.

“Is this?”

“It's from Paris. I remember you said it was your favorite.”

You look up at him, and he has the nerve to  look bashful. A smile gracing his face, it was big and expansive, filling his features , incapable of being as small as he probably wanted it to be, he was simply too big. God graced him with a matching bigness everywhere else to match. 

You closed your eyes as you took a sip. The warmness of it reaches down to your toes, into the deep recesses of your soul, temporarily satiating the beast within you, It licks its self inflicted wounds, the pain of the invisible scars dissipating. 

You think of your mother and all the times she’s made this exact hot chocolate for you. The homemade croissants she would make to go with it, telling  you the story of the time your father took her to Paris for one of their anniversaries. 

“I’ll uh. . .” you look at Terry and he freezes. His eyes lost a bit of their mirth, their apologetic smile. “I’ll catch you later okay.” And then they're cold, back to their unreadable stormy hues of grey. 

You nod, silently drinking your hot chocolate, eyeing the flask he left on your desk filled with more.

“Girl.’ Amaya hissed from her desk. She gave you a look before going back to her soldier. 

She wanted an explanation, most likely over drinks tonight at Gargoyle’s. 

“Jasmine!” Salt and pepper Boss quickly called out in his usual abrasive manner. 

“Hi Boss.” you smiled politely.

“I need a quick favor from you, I know your schedule doesn’t have you assigned to any active missions today.”

“Of course.” You quickly swallowed the rest and stood up, following your Boss.

“We’re going to a meeting and I need you to give a report on how you handled Terry these past few months since his transition.”

“I already told you. I haven't–”

“Don't tell me anything. Save it for the meeting.”

You nod, utterly confused.

You're taken to a conference room, but aside from your Boss and the four others that sit at the table, you know there are more people watching. Eyes you can't see and names you don’t know.

 There always is. 

Are they watching you on a screen in another room? On another floor perhaps? Is there a secret window behind the board? Is this half a conference room, half interrogation room? Does the screen that holds the monitor have a secret room behind it?

Questions you might never get an answer to. 

They ask you twice as many.  

What do you think of Terry as a soldier? Is he fit? Has his loyalty wavered? Is he showing any doubts? Is Agent Terry still capable of carrying out his duties as a soldier?

Agent Terry is fit, and he has no doubts. His loyalty is unwavering. He doesn't always like his orders, but he understands his opinions are only that, and they don't hinder his abilities. 

There are so many ways you can give the same answers, but as you answer and answer and answer them, they don't stop. 

Are the lights getting brighter? Your mouth feels dry. They ask the questions again, slowly introducing newer questions, more open ended. You clear your throat and keep your cool. You don't ask for water and you make sure to disguise your true feelings, even going so far to give a professional smile every now and then, like it was a normal performance review at any other company.

“How have you handled Terry and made him an asset instead of a hindrance?”

“I don’t control Terry.”

“Terry asks for you for every mission.”

“I didn;t have any prior knowledge of that until this moment.”

“Some of your coworkers say you and Terry have developed a friendship and some think something more.”

“I have been friendly with Terry, but that does not mean there is a relationship between us. Platonic or otherwise,” you say neutrally, “we are coworkers.”

“Define your coworker banter and status with Terry.”

“We talk about the job. I.E. How was your mission? Did it go well? How was the flight back to base? We talk about other coworkers, if the rumors about him are true. I.E. What happened with his cousin? Does he have any other family? Where he goes when we get vacation. We share meals, he buys me snacks for my desk–”

“Thank you agent Jasmine you are dismissed.”

Standing, you thank the men in the room and take your leave. 

The rest of the day was business as usual. Work was the same. 

It was another cold and dreary night. The rain poured much harder than the night before. You walked to Gargoyle’s as you do every night after work. 

The bell on the door jingled dainty above your head. you gently shake your umbrella before putting it in your bag and making your way to your usual spot at the bar.

“Marcus!” you half singed his name, grinning wildly. 

“You want the usual?” He gave you a small one sided grin, his casual unchanging demeanor remaining firm, but over time, you learned how to read the subtle lines of the book of Marcus. 

His name, like your name of Jasmine, was not real. 

This bar was his sacred ground and as long as everyone followed his rules, he didn’t care much of what anyone did. If you break it you buy it, and you best believe you’ll be the one buying it. He will hunt you down and make sure you foot the bill for whatever damage is done to the bar his family has owned for generations. 

The generational thing you had deduced through bits and pieces he's told you, reading in between lines between lines, he was about as forthcoming with information about himself as you were, which is what drew you to him in the first place. 

As someone who understood isolation and the hard life that you chose to lead, he was easy to relate to. It made taking him home with you easier. He wouldn’t  ask too many questions, he wouldn’t get upset over the ones you refused to answer, and he didn’t get mad at the answers of one’s you did choose to answer, and he was always gone before the sun came up. The forever dependable and reliable Marcus. 

Home was starting to feel too empty, the walls started crowding in on you, suffocating you, the wailing beast inside you grew more and more unruly as they started closing in on you.

 You needed company. You needed Marcus. 

He placed a double shot of a whiskey neat in front of you, giving you a look so subtle and fast you would have missed it if you blinked too fast, but you would never dare. 

You don’t make a habit of missing things. 

The bar was awfully quiet, too many agents on missions. 

Amaya and the usual troop you drank with were nowhere to be seen. You’d text them or maybe they'll text you, but you dont keep a phone on you. 

You have little to no digital footprint and you aimed to keep it that way. Pulling out your little notebook you keep in your bag, you slowly take in your surroundings. Observing everyone in the bar and updating your notes, adding things here and now if someone acted different or did anything new. 

Everyone who came to Gargoyle’s worked for the organization. If you didn’t, It would be near impossible for you to find the bar. Its location is pretty well hidden. 

In the bar there was only Gary, his real name because he was retired, old, and probably a little out of his mind, but he could take care of himself and he didn't bother anyone, just drank and told a few disturbing stories to anyone who’d listen. You let him tell you a few every now and then. 

The sad reality being, he had no family left. Maybe he never had the chance to start one. There was no one to take care of him, take him to all his appointments, and make sure he takes all his meds. Some tried to step in, taking pity on the poor old bastard, as you even tried once, but he’d eventually get mean. 

And by mean– he’d try to kill you for helping him. 

But that wasn't because he was crazy. He was a proud stubborn old man, he’d be damned if he’d let anyone pity or try to help him. Treat him like he's desolate and inept is one of his favorite phrases. 

There was a small gaggle of soldiers not on a mission, the newest class of them after Terry. He  was single handedly transferred. He had no class, no troup to bond with. 

Another sentence in his file to justify his status as dangerous. 

You didn’t get to look at the whole thing, not having the proper clearance, but being the world class capably trained free agent you were, could find out such things without much effort. 

You didn't know all of their aliases, but it was fine. You could find that out later. Instead you busy yourself with making notes on the dynamic of their group, finding thugs that set them apart and hopefully add more onto  your own  personal files of everyone in the agency. 

Your father taught you at a young age the importance of knowing everyone around you. At that time he and your mother were caught up in some stuff. They had retired when they had you, but their work had not necessarily let go of them, making them teach you whatever they could. 

Always prepare for the worst case scenario, another thing he taught you. 

They were part of the same rule. Know everything about all those around you, and at some point you get to know them almost better than yourself, and you’ll be able to predict when and how they turn on you, and if they don't, then you're already halfway prepared when they do. 

You know how they act on a day to day basis and can use that to predict how they use all their skills and behaviors on you, or at least when they try to. 

“You still doing that crazy trust no one shit?” Marcus asked you, wiping his glass, you didn’t have to look up to see him actually wiping a glass, you just knew him that well. Case in point. 

“You still hoping for your dad to finally say he's proud of you?” You don’t look up from your notebook.

“Why do you always take it too far?” He smacked his teeth going to the other end of the bar, pouting.  . . you looked up just to make sure. 

Fuck. 

He was really pouting over this. 

You were going to have to apologize later. Why? You aren’t so sure. . . You’ll figure it out. 

Before you could make a quick random word map to solve this mind boggling mystery. 

The door crashed open, the bell swinging violently back and forth, clanging in protest at the movement, not used to being demanded to move with such force. It was the most excitement it's had above the door in months. A chill from the night air and pattering rain swept through the bar, sending a tingle down your spine.

No one looked up, assuming their positions. Only looking at him from the corner of their eyes, but continuing what they were doing. 

You write in your book, Marcus wiped down the bar, a glass or two, Gary remained Gary, and the soldiers kept shooting the shit amongst one another. It couldn’t be determined if they let their guards down too fast or if they were that good and pretending to be relaxed in the presence of a stranger. 

Yes, he had to have worked for the organization to be able to find this bar, but he’s never been here before and from everyone’s actions. 

No one knows him at all. 

Troubling. 

“Jasmine.” He said it definitively, panting as he shouldered off his wet coat. 

“Uhm,” you start. Not actually going to open up to say anything else, remaining neutral and keeping your slightly shy and awkward persona, fighting the rush of fear at someone knowing something about you, even if it is fake information. 

“I’m sorry.” He flashed half a smile, still out of breath. As short as it was, the lone longing snarl and biting beast within you longed for him to do it again. As troubling as his presence was, as big of a threat he was at the moment, he was a pretty threat. With his rich dark skin that held confusing undertones of  warmth and coolness, which one you weren’t sure, but you wanted to know him long enough to find out. Your heart leapt against its cage, desperate for a touch, a moment, anything . . . To learn every inch of him and commit it to memory. 

You wanted to touch his hair. 

Was it wet from running in the rain? Was it soft? Would it feel like the beard on his face? Would it be as warm to the touch like his eyes? His kind warm brown eyes?

“I’m Ah—” he quickly stopped himself, “Andrew– mh,” he grunt shortly before continuing, apparently it was too soon for him to be talking, he gasped a little before speaking again, “I was at the meeting you had today, about Terry.”

He held out his hand. 

“Hi, Ah-Andrew.” You gently took his hand, biting back a smile as best you could.

For the first time in your life, you couldn’t hide it well enough. It should have scared you, but it didn’t, instead it made your head feel light, your heart was beating to a rhythm you hadn’t felt before. Was it even beating? Were you having a heart attack? No. No, it was much worse. Your heart was racing so fast against  your chest, thumbing so hard you couldn’t feel it anymore. But it felt . . . Good, dizzyingly so. 

He didn’t let go of your hand as he sat, gently rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb. It was cold outside, wet. But for some reason, his hands were warm. You fought the rising giggle in your chest as best you could, but your body wasn’t under your control anymore. It tumbled out softly, gracing the space of the quiet small bar, bouncing gently against the walls. 

It was oh so soft.

Perhaps he hadn’t even heard it. The sound was too low to have meant anything. 

But he smiled, much bigger this time. He did notice.

  His eyes flickering down to your clasped hands. Neither of you had let go after the handshake. As he did, a gentle laugh slipped from his own lips. This dangerous stranger was turning your entire life upside down and he had the nerve to suddenly get bashful, but even that didn’t  make you angry. It didn’t put you on alert and back to your senses, but your  heart stopped racing, instead it started to swell and grow, it was going to pop out of your chest. You were going to explode. You wanted to explode. 

Howling, it was. The beast in you was howling. Throwing itself against the cage you locked it in, and for the first time you noticed it was starving. That as it thrashed itself  against the confines of a cage of its own creation, it was hurting itself. Its ribs were exposed and bare through its matted skin and fur, each collision with the bars hurt more than its self inflicted wounds. The scars.

You wanted to explode for him. This dangerous stranger who was a threat to your very existence. 

“I didn’t at the meeting, Ah-Andrew.” You said, thanking God for your instincts taking over. 

“I was.” He said definitively, “just not somewhere you can see.” 

He had no sense of privacy. No self preservation. He answered fully and honestly. No way he was an agent for anyone. He had to be something else. A behavior that irritated something inside of you, but it wasn’t malicious or annoying it was. . .protective. You found yourself hoping he was not like this with anyone else. You hoped he never got the chance to. 

“So you do work for the agency?” 

“I’m a detective.” 

You sat up in  your seat, unconsciously leaning closer to him. “Really?” This makes so much sense. Detectives operated outside of soldiers and secretaries. They observed and infiltrated, gathering information until they had orders to strike. Their job is so secret, you thought they were a myth.

This makes him squint his eyes. He leans forward too but you don’t think anything of it, too focused to wait for what he has to say. 

“I never actually met one before!” You interject, too anxious, eager, “do you ever get directly involved in the field? Or is it simply reconnaissance in nature? Do you ever assassinated anyone or is it more dismantling governments from the inside? Like infiltration? Or does it depend?” You couldn’t stop the questions. As soon as you ask one you think of another you’d love the answer to. 

“I investigate murders,” he tilted his head in a knowing look, “kidnappings– sometimes both. Sometimes regular  crimes that may be more than what they seem.”

You dip your head and avert your gaze, your cheeks feeling hot. Your shirt begins to feel too tight. 

You shake your head and look back up at him, “If you're not an agent, how are you working for the organization?”

“I think they call me a Temp.”

“So you’re working for a short time? What could we not do, that they hired someone on the outside for?” You think out loud. They hardly let agents from outside agencies transfer into the organization, but they hire people from the outside? A Civilian. 

“All because of Terry?” you continue, “ Did he do something?”

“I think you already know I can’t answer any of that.” 

You nod. 

“I didn’t come here to talk about Terry.”

“Oh.” You blink. 

Oh.

“How does someone fall into this line of work?” he asks you conversationally

 “I can’t answer that.” You attempt to bite back another smile. Theres no way he seriously just asked you that. He was definitely a civie.

“How long have you been doing this?”

 “I can’t answer that either.” You bite your lower lip.

He playfully huffs through his nose and leans back, crossing his arms. The fabric of his shirt softly creaks against his chest and arms at the movement, straining tightly against his skin. 

“Well that’s not fair.” You look back up to his eyes. The warm brown pools twinkled as he regarded you. “I gave you some valuable intel and you don’t wanna give me any back.”

You playfully purse your lips. 

“I’m waiting.”

“And I’m thinking.” You roll your eyes and look up.

What can you tell him?

“My parents worked for the organization. I’m just following their footsteps.”

True, vague. . . Safe. 

“You’re family oriented.”

You snap your head up at him before you can catch yourself and stop. 

“I’m sorry,” he softens, “detective.” Is all he says in an explanation. 

You sit back in your seat, not quite moving your head from its skeptical position. You need time. You need to think this over. How do you let a detective get to know you in bits and pieces without letting him put them together to get the whole picture? Without ruining the suspense? 

You nod at him, smiling on the inside. 

For the first time in your conversation with this stranger. Whatever his name is, you successfully hide a smile. 

He was a challenge. 

You liked challenges. 

You ask him what it’s like being a detective, and doge his questions on being a spy. He hasn’t caught onto the game. Still probing occasionally and conversationally answering your questions, still gracing you with the lovely flashes of his teeth. 

At some point your hands had found their way back together. 

You silently trace his hand with your finger. As he explains how hard it is to turn it off. The complexity of leaving the job at the job and going home to be there for his loved ones. 

He doesn’t explain who exactly they are. His family? But does he have both parents? Is it a sister? A few brothers? Friends? A found  family of some kind? 

You don’t ask, and he doesn’t elaborate. 

He had secrets too, and something about that warms you. He stops talking, but you don’t notice. 

He moves his hand over and you start to trace his open palm. His hands were so much bigger than yours. They made yours look. . . Delicate, gentle, soft, but they were weapons of mass destruction. These hands have killed hundreds, maybe thousands. They have dismantled harmful military regimes, they have dismantled corrupt governments, they saved the world once or twice with oceans of blood, but as his fingers gently curved up, tracing the fingers and palm of your hand as you traced his, it was just a hand you wanted to be held by his. 

You were you. 

“You can go anywhere, but you can’t stay here.” Marcus said flatly.

You eyed him. He was doing his best to look annoyed, but you could see the hidden smirk. 

The only time you stay at The Gargoyle long enough until last call is when you want Marcus to take you home. 

You were so distracted by your new stranger, you didn’t notice the bar emptying out. 

Even crazy Gary was gone before you. 

You would have loved to ignore him and gaze into your stranger’s eyes some more, but he liked following rules. He stood up and grabbed his coat. 

Wordlessly you follow, glaring at Marcus behind his back. 

The bell tolls heavily above your heads as Marcus slams the door behind you both. 

Instead of the dread you feared if facing, you look over at him and find yourself laughing. 

He laughs with you, opening his coat to put on his shoulders. 

“Don’t put that on.” You open your umbrella. “Unless you want to be sick.”

He puts it over his head and you shake your head. 

“I live in this area. I can take you to your car and walk home with  no problem.”

“It’s alright.”

A car pulls up down the street. 

“My ride’s already here.” He looks down at you with an apologetic smile. Why was he sorry? You had to leave too. 

Your time together was at its natural end. 

“It was nice meeting you, Ah-Andrew.” You offer, you weren't sure how to say goodbye and actually mean it. The last time you did was four years ago and you don’t have to say anything exponentially profound with your family. 

He bounces back and forth on his heels. Looking back over his shoulder before he looks back at you. For someone his size, it looked extremely boyish. He occasionally shows off a childish bashful charm, and what confused you more was how well it suited him. How fast you grew a fondness to see him this way. 

“If you give me your number, then we don’t have to say goodbye. We can figure out how to do this again.”

You narrow your eyes in confusion before shaking your head with a smile. 

“You know where to find me. I’m here every night after work.”

He slowly shakes his head in a gentle disagreement

“You might,” he drawls, “but I won’t be here tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll be back., but it might be nice to talk to you sometime before I’m back to see you in person.”

You sigh through your nose, your eyes darting across his face, his eyes, his skin, his broad shoulders, everything you can look at. 

“I don’t have a phone.” You admit, frowning. 

He blinks. 

Before he can say anything you tuck your umbrella under your chin and put your hands in your bag. He takes the handle for you, still daring to stand outside of the umbrella in the rain. 

“Here,” you hand him a pad of sticky notes and a pen, “give me your number and I’ll call you.”

He slowly takes it, letting his fingers linger on yours. 

He looks back into your eyes and you're floored by the flash of dismay in them. The sudden slip of sadness that flashes through them. 

“I promise.” You whisper. Something about that look hurts you.

He. . . doubted you. He didn’t believe you. 

Lying was always too easy for you. 

Your entire life you learned to  lie and to lie well, but now,  In this moment, you feel a guilt. You can’t even recall a moment you felt guilty for lying. 

Lying saved your life, your parents life, and now it’s your job.

But at this moment you want to take it back, even though you can’t, you won’t. . . You want to. 

You don’t ever want him to look at you like that again. You don’t think you could take it. 

He turns your palm over, letting the pad stay in your hand. He scrawls his number with the pen in place of his name he draws a cross. 

You look up at him and he winks, closing your palm and placing the pen inside. 

“I’ll be waiting for your call.”

As you watch him walk to the car, you don’t turn around to walk away until it drives off out of sight. 

As you walk home, in the wet hard rain, breathing in the cold dry air, you don’t notice the howl is gone. The scars don’t hurt, some softly fade away, you aren’t picking at the wounds still there, and the relentless longing for something cocoons into something else. 

A new desperate want takes its place, you aren’t starving for it, you aren’t hurting and you aren’t hurting yourself because you are hurting, it aches just as much if not more, searing. . . This one doesn’t want to solely hurt you, this one is more outward. It hurts not because of the world and who you are, but because of one single person. 

You’re stranger. 

Cross.

What does it mean? Who is he? 

You long to know. No. . . you yearn.

And it burns. 

The flame of it engulfs you, the realization combusts through your senses, the smoke chokes you.  These new feelings somehow hurt more. You don’t understand why but they do. 

It took too long to understand how lonely you truly were. You aren’t even sure why, most likely living to be a weapon and lie and manipulate and commit the most atrocious acts unknown to mankind takes a toll.

But this. . is worse. 

You toss and turn for hours. Your stomach hurts, your light headed, cross. You keep repeating it, just the thought of that word sends a new course of flames throughout your veins. 

When you wake up you can’t eat, you can’t drink. If you do, you're in the bathroom throwing up and it burns. Your throat hurts and it feels like smoke is pouring out of your ears, your nose, your eyes and anywhere it can get to. 

Cross cross cross cross cross cross.

Your head swells and when you walk you feel like you're walking on air, no you’re flying, you're floating above the ground. 

The sun is brighter and its flame lights up. The entire universe and matches the flame burning inside of you.

That’s what it wants to do, it wants to light up the world like the sun. 

Not destroy, not cage something up inside  of you. 

It’s shining, you’re shining. 

You’re a big beautiful light and you have to share it with everyone, and it’s all thanks to one person. 

You’re cross.

.

.

.

.

Thank You for reading! Let me know If you would like to be added to the taglist for this sereis!

taglist: @zillasvilla @novahreign @kenshisluvrgirl @theglamclosetsl @kismet83 @orchidwonder @avoidthings @nathanbatemanfucker @megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @chaithetics

[mississouppi]

You should compare the Koopalings to Bistro Huddy characters

i agree yes i should

i love bistro huddy yall its so amusing for a youtube/tiktok series. i love you drew. nicole please date me. ruby please date me. aaron so small he only need one popcorn. pam has my entire heart and soul she is POOKIE. i love this show. the drama has me hooked. inject the yuri straight into my veins.

larry would be a bistro huddy watcher. larry watches fuckin everything ik hes seen every youtube scenario series on the planet. hes on the youtube shorts, tiktok, reels, all at once. i think hed like to think hes brad. hes not brad. hes river. sorry babe. negative amounts of suave here. hes trying. hes just. stupid. love this guy but hes. dumb. im giggling to myself i can see him saying so much of what river says. the vocal fry goes hard. grown man whos dad owns the condo he lives in.

morty is aaron. love aaron. he so small he only need one popcorn. he means well he just has a habit of being allergic to keeping a secret. i love aaron yall. hes so wholesome. stand up for yourself aaron. my favourite wholesome kind punching bag. morty stop letting these mfs hate on you. sparkle on diva. hes a lil oblivious but we like him anyway.

wendy is ruby. BADDIE. wendy would also be a bistro huddy watcher ik shes locked in on the yuri lore. girl is INVESTED. she on the patreon. she a lil scary but she cares and she doesnt take any shit from the clowns she works with. i love ruby shes an icon and i feel like wendy is very her. wlw solidarity. she serves food and cunt. wendy puts men in their place. as she should.

iggy would be nico. guy does not know what is going on. zooted city. high as a kite 90% of the time hes supposed to be working and hasnt had a coherent thought since 2011 but occasionally he locks the fuck in and says something deep and profound. gags everybody. hey girl what did you just say. uhhhhhhh. i feel like iggy also has a habit of quitting his job and bowser makes him come back. 300 smoke breaks.

roy is chef joey. angry and unc and somehow has a gorgeous beautiful kind woman on his arm. how does he do it. she deserves so much better. roy be nicer to your girlfriends. its fun for him to ragebait ludwig, who we will get to, because he knows ludwig cant do anything about it. hysterical. he thinks all these other mfs are idiots. and that is true. but hes also lumped in with moron city. call coming from inside the house babes.

lemmy would be bridgette. everybody loves this guy and making him cry ensures certain death. dont fuck with him the rest of these mfs will be ON you. i also think lemmy has a lil pickles in his character, he and iggy are so pickles and nico when theyre together but apart lemmy leans more bridgette. he care so much, he get a lil fixated on doing everything perfect, he sees the good in people almost to a fault, everybody loves him. hes bridgette. i love bridgette. lemmy go bag yourself a tattooed scary boyfriend NOW.

ludwig is terry. gay, enamoured with a man he works with, old as fuck, and a little sad. its perfect. quit congregating at the west tower. time to lean time to. do your damn paperwork. hes allergic to serving food but he certainly does serve cunt. go terry go terry go. ludwig would also spend most of his time hiding in his office pretending hes soooooo busy. hes also the designated resolver of conflict but he sucks gay balls at it and resorts to placating with gift cards. pushover. i love these old gay bastards.

bonus for you. kammy is madge and kamek is cybill. theyre so nasty i love them. loooooove a grizzled old hag. kammy says some deranged shit in the name of flirting. theyre so nasty. i adore them. i love a sleazeball yall know.

nicole serves too much cunt to be any of these chuds

thank you so much for this request this was very fun, i love relating my silly little chud koopalings to actually well developed and likeable characters from different series. YIPPEE!! i love bistro huddy. nicole date me. ik youre just drew in a wig but im okay with that. THANK YOU ANON.

im trying to do more art over summer so maybe you guys will see more of that as i work on cooking up art of my human and koopa designs for yall. god knows how successful i will be, ive never been artsy. im trying. its not good. let me know if you have anything you wanna see! ily guys kiss kiss.

[dershoimvik]

Like others, I love the way your brain works so I was hoping to get your thoughts on this but pls do not feel obligated to answer! Something that I’ve always been obsessed with (that reeled me in a bit to Gallavich actually) are the 3x03 scenes of Mickey getting jealous. I think bc I somewhat feel giddy on Ian’s behalf but also bc I think it’s so interesting that Mickey is SO jealous that he can’t even hide it. He’s so good at hiding anything that would indicate caring about Ian until this point. What do you think changes in that moment where he’s openly being jealous? What does Mickey think of his own jealousy (if anything)? Also, any thoughts about what the rest of that shift might’ve looked like? I picture Mickey pretending to read the magazines and just seething. And what on earth was his plan when he confronted them? Idk baby jealous Mickey just holds a special place in my heart.

mmmmmmmmmm yes... yes...thank u for this question i legit went into a mind palace to think about this one. imagine me closing my eyes like the sherlock gif.

so i honestly explored a lot of this spec from mickeys pov in this fic recently so if u have not read that yet i recommend that!! and also kinda maybe this chapter of love is a battlefield (but that's ians pov). the liab chapter speaks to how i think the great lip-ian war of season 2 resulted in ian and mickey spending a lot more time together, which gave them the opportunity to develop a legit friendship on top of their sexual relationship.

its hard to dive into canon without writing 4000 words bc everything weaves into each other.. like ian and mickey did not fall out of a coconut tree they exist within the context of all of which they live and what came before them...

for length sake im just going to skip to where they're at in s3.

mickey gets out of juvie four months early, and presumably after no contact with ian. terry never actually found out about them so he's kinda lulled into this sense of like-- false security. maybe ian threatened frank, maybe frank just didnt say anything. mickey doesn't know or really care, but he goes to find ian because he Needs To Be Fucked Now. and ian is fucking someone else in what mickey later refers to as Their Spot. soo he's lowkey pissed af there and sends the guy running and then demands ian fuck him.

mickey's always been a little possessive over ian (i like 'em sweet) and this is no exception. but this is the first time he's actually been faced with the evidence that ian fucks other guys, because as we know, kash and ian were confronted by linda literally the same day ian started hooking up with mickey. so i doubt mickey knew ian had been fucking kash until kash caught them together. so after mickey propositions angie to cover for himself in front of lip (bc he doesnt know lip knows about them), ian gets jealous and, when mickey shows annoyance that ned came to the k&g, starts rubbing ned in his face.

i dont think it's that anything changed in mickey so much as this has never been a real issue before, and this is something that got built up.

i mean.. that day alone started with blake (the female pedophile who just moved in) saying if love can be called a mistake..... and us cutting right to mickey looking very contemplative.. ok so actually this ep raises questions all around about pedophilia. we are reminded of ian being with kash, and that sets lip on his crusade that ends up resulting in a whole bunch of nothing. just like he did ultimately nothing about kash "i almost called the cops a hundred times." and then mandy is the one to get her to move out. then ian is propositioned by ned and mickey takes issue with how old he is, and ned propositions both ian and mickey for a threesome... ok anyway back to the other thing

mickey being "jealous" has never been a thing because every other time they were on, ian wasn't seeing anyone else (or, mickey just didn't know about it, and it's kinda dont ask dont tell. we as the audience know ian wasnt seeing anyone else). so when mickey actually sees it, he can't ignore it.

and they are at a point where their relationship is serious enough that mickey's going to want to stake his claim. he's def always cared (1x09 i need to see you) and he's also always shown it to Ian (1x10 smiling during visitation), but he doesn't say it-- mickey's very much a do-er. I wrote some thoughts on ian's perspective here tho.

i dont know if he had a conscious plan to confront them, thats a really good question! i think he just let his emotions take over. mickey was absolutely looking for Anything to justify throwing a punch at this POS so the second ned pulled out "boyfriend" and asked to fuck both of them he was thrilled to lay him out.

but in terms of them taunting each other i think this is one of those things where ian and mickey are pushing each others buttons even though they both know the outcome of the game they're playing. everyone else is collateral damage. so i imagine the rest of the shift to be mickey silent and stewing and ian feeling smug about that.

but yeah!! i think the rest of the questions i answered in the fic i linked, at least about what mickeys thinking in some of those moments.

[uncharted-constellations]

Batwoman Beyond

Was originally gonna be a genderbent terry but dana was calling to me so~

Theres obviously a few ways you could go about it but personally my interpretation would be that Rebirth goes the Same until Powers and Mr. Fixx track down Terry on his way to the police station, and Terry ends up badly hurt, maybe in a temporary coma, (i refuse to kill my boy lmao). Since Dana was the one to drop off Terry at Mr. Waynes right before this, she ends up going to confront him after she gets the call about Terry, however Wayne passes her on the road, going to the police with his information after finding out what happened on the news. Dana sneaks into the manor, and just like Terry, finds the cave, articles still pulled up about Powers and the affects of the nerve gas.

I can’t imagine her first instinct would be to steal the suit, at least not until she hears Wayne come back, complaining upstairs about the police being unable to do anything without the actual evidence. In a moment of determination she grabs the suit and sneaks out. Bruce shuts down the suit the second he notices it missing this time, as theres no obvious culprit, but when Dana pleads just wanting to get the evidence to put powers behind bars, Bruce relents, telling her the rest of the story on the way. The rest of the episode obviously goes differently, but Dana obviously gets more involved than planned, stopping the operation and creating blight.

Wayne ends up recruiting Dana, acknowledging that while gotham might not need a batman, it does need a hero. I imagine logistically he probably has to make her an entirely new costume because while terry was smaller than bruce dana is probably tiny in comparison lmao, thing would be baggy and probably not as effective as it should be. Pretty much the same exact design tho. She would also probably cut her hair shorter because full cowls are not long hair friendly. Bruce doesnt care if you like your hair, he’s not risking head wounds.

Dana’s career probably starts with more spying than action seeing as while she might know some stuff from her brother (hes from the comics, and was involved in jokerz shit but ill keep him) shes not as physically ready to be Batwoman, but then again we didnt get a lot of background on Dana. Maybe she plays the future equivalent of softball or something... Terry recovers probably in time for the Willie Watt/Golem episode, although he probably has some lingering physical issues that prevent him from being quite as active as he had been before, at least for a while if not permanently.

I imagine he takes a minute to figure it out but takes it in stride, forcing Wayne to hire him as well. He doesnt ask for a costume, instead helping Wayne more with the mechanical stuff which we know he’s fairly capable in based on his original observations of the suit, alongside occasionally helping with backup or undercover work, and probably as a starting sparring buddy for Dana. He might very occasionally put on the other batsuit when needed (like when inque captures batwoman, taking the place of bruce in that instance), but he’s probably more likely to throw on the nightwing mask, run in and help or deliver a necessary gadget, and then bust ass back to the batmobile, i don’t want him too too involved but more so than Max was originally.

Im undecided on whether or not Max still figures it out, but shes still a close friend for both of them. I imagine the relationship with Batwoman and 10 is also very different, partially because Dana and Terry wouldn’t have most of their relationship issues. Maybe 10 is more involved with her families schemes in this au, becoming more of a rival than a kindred spirit.

[hermanunworthy]

!DNDADS S2 EP36 SPOILERS!

alrighty! im writing this out in my notes app this time to make sure it doesnt all get deleted like last time: s2 ep36 thoughts! in real time! lets go!

- idc what the episode title or any other official stuff says, i am gonna say terri instead of terry for scary

- HERMIE HERMIE HERMIE HERMIE OH MY GODDDD IM ALREADY STIMMING SO HARD OMG OMG

- PLZ LET THE HERMIE X SCARY STUFF STOP PLZ I CANNOT TAKE THIS

- my arms hurt now. i got too excited. also my headphones need to charge DANG IT

- LINC HAS HAD THE SAME CONTACTS IN SINCE PAPA JOHNS??? and we thought hermie suffered the most /j

- oh god no ofc theres a drinking fact 😁😁

- IT IS NOW TIME. CUE THE GUNSHOTS

- idk WHY im drinking a soda during this im already jittery enough

- NORMAL GOT SHOT

- NOOOO THEY GOT A GARTOK BRACELET ON TJ?? well looks like the brainwash theory people were sorta right

- DOES THIS MEAN BARRY IS FREE NOW?? WHERE IS BARRY???

- how much do u wanna bet hermie isnt gonna get a turn.

- TERRI CALLING NORMAL HUBBY IS SO CURSED

- oh okay so tj is aware and not in like brainwashed mode okay good

- HERMIE!!!!

- "hermie is going to.. sulk. beth, it is ur turn" ANTHONY COME ON.

- TERRIS INTRODUCING HERSELF TO TERRY.....

- "what did u do to my scary?" WAAAA 😭😭

- LINCOLN OH NO

- IF BARRY FUCKING COMES BACK THIS EPISODE I WILL LOOOOSE MY SHIT

- okay is this not barrys earring thing?? is this collar a new one? idk ig this just doesnt have to do anything w barry lmao. i really wonder what happened to that guy though

- TERRI TALKING ABOUT HER DAD IN FRONT OF TERRY OW

- LINCOLN being the one to remember hermie wow how the tables have turned

- NOOOOOO I MADE A JOKE ABOUT HERMIE GETTING A CRUSH ON LINCOLN BEFORE DONT MAKE IT COME TRUE

- WHY IS HERMIE ABLE TO ACCEPT VALIDATION FROM EVERYONE EXCEPT NORMAL. KILL ME

- im gonna be sick.

- HERMIE NEEDING NORMAL TO BE A PART OF ANOTHER THROUPLE THIS IS SUS KID THIS IS SUS I KNOW WHAT U ARE

- ALSO HANG ON HANG ON HOLD UP. HOLD UP. DO WE NOW HAVE CANON BI (or at least mspec) HERMIE??? HOLY SHIT LETS GOOOO

- OAKWORTHY FANS HOW ARE WE FEELING??? IM VERY CONFUSED AS ALWAYS

- WE TECHNICALLY GOT G NOTED AGAIN EXCEPT ANTHONY WAS SINGING IN THE WRONG KEY LMAO

- ARE THEY JUST GONNA BE LIKE. MARRIED THE REST OF THE SEASON??? HELP

- TERRI HUGGED TERRY AAAUAGAHHH

- IM SO HAPPY HERMIE IS GETTING SM SCREENTIME WTF IS THIS

- OHHHH MY GOD I CANNOT WAIT TO DRAW SCARY HERMIE HOLY SHIT

- OH NO. I JUST REALIZED. TERRYS VISION.... THE SCARY HE SAW W THE TAPE MEASURER WAS ACTUALLY HERMIE WASNT IT. I LITERALLY FORGOT THAT TERRY IS ABOUT TO DIE.

- YALL. TERRY STEPHEN STAMPLER MARLOWE JR. FIRST KIDDAD TO DIE. ☹️

- WHO SHOT TERRY. WHO DID IT

- GRANT????? I ACTUALLY SCREAMED IM NGL I SCREAMED. WHAT THE FUUUUCK

- OKAY. OKAY. wow. okay

[sortagaysortahigh]

Honestly truly, out of every character on The Bear, my love for Richie is infinite, like he truly is my favorite character, the way he’s written and portrayed is something that a lot of writers, director, and cinematographers try to but typically fall short in one aspect or another. He’a so relatable in so many ways and it makes the audience want to root for him because yeah this older guy is kind of a dick, but a lot of the odds are against him and he’s trying, even if he doesn’t always do things right, he’s still trying

We take a 45 year old man who truly doesnt know his purpose in life, is going thru what we can assume to be an existential crisis, while simultaneously trying to mourn the loss of his bestfriend, scratch that, HIS BROTHER, meanwhile its clear he’s lost the love of his life (tiff) and holds so many regrets about that relationship and how its impacting his daughter-who he loves with his all!!!!-and he’s just trying to find his place in the family business (and in life) because prior to Carmy showing up, it was a trainwreck, but it was a trainwreck that he felt comfortable in, even a little too comfortable. We literally watch as his life flips upside down and he struggles with his emotions, his family, his physical place whether it be at the Beef/going to The Bear or even in a post-covid Chicago where everything he knew and recognized is almost gone and has changed.

I feel like Richie’s character is genuinely at a loss of who he is without Mikey in the first season, because that man child(lovingly) was like his other half, and that was his platonic soulmate that’s been taken away from him because of Mikey’s own issues. Issues that even Richie couldn’t fix and maybe he feels guilty about that because he knew Mikey was using, but he also knew he couldn’t stop him. We as the audience get to watch the way that richie is constantly struggling to be someone that he actually wants to be, and to even feel a sense of self confidence and self worth, because he overcompensates to hide his own grief and insecurities.

Then as season two is progressing we see Richie blow the fuck up and start to put himself back together in a way that ACTUALLY BENEFITS HIM!!!! Which is HIS OWN DECISIONS!! Because yes he needed the push from Carm and the rest of the family, but he also needed people outside of them to reassure him that yes he has skills, hes smart, he has a purpose and he deserves a place at The Bear, not only that but that he’s NEVER TOO OLD TO TRY AGAIN. Because we saw bits and pieces of life literally knocking this man down and him trying to laugh it off or brush things off like he was okay when he wasnt. Then he meets Chef Terry who tells him, yea bro life kicked my ass and i was sad and depressed and damn near forty at the time, but I didn’t give up and I tried again because it’s never too late!!! And that allows him to take a look at himself and realize ITS NEVER TOO LATE TO CHANGE!! And he can do things for his OWN BENEFIT THAT MAKE HIM FEEL GOOD (ie cleaning his countertop before going to work and wearing suits). Then he does what nobody has ever expected and APOLOGIZES TO SUGAR! and we see the way staging impacted not only his professionalism, but his sense of self and even his confidence. He knows that he cant do everything and that it’s okay, but now instead of forcing himself into spaces he doesn’t fit into, hes making his own space and in turn sliding into the places that he does fit in.

He’s literally such a well written and portrayed character and he’s so fucking real and so fucking relatable, and yea he has his unlikable moments (as many of us do) but that doesn’t define him, and now he’s learning not to let the past define who he can be and stop him from trying things differently in the present!

I live laugh and LOVE Richie!!!!!!!

[dapper-nahrwhale]

ive been thinking abt It and dndads (and stranger things kinda) for hours now its like. the monster has always been here and has shaped your life in ways you cant even perceive and you want to outgrow it but you cant and you never will. and the monster is a living breathing creature but it's also your parents and grandparents and it's also You and youre just continuing to act it out. nick leaves taylor like glenn (kind of) left him like bill left him and so on. eddie and bev marry people just like their parents. lark and sparrow literally have the doodler in their bloodstreams. augh

LITERALLY. it refuses to leave my head. The paralleling in these stories ahhg! Dndads and it (two of my favorite things in the world) hit the same thing!

Gawd just. Everything about these makes me go insane. The way the cycle repeats. You cant stop the monster that ruined your childhood from ruining your adulthood too. You are that monster. You cant move on past what happened when you were a kid. You the exact same kid you were when it happened except you're nothing like that kid at all. You can never change from the shit you went through and you'll never be that kid again. You became your parents without even realizing it.

Its about the generational trauma!

Also. Grant parallels Darryl by talking about things too much instead of too little. When he said the "we'll talk about it later" in the recent ep I lost it. The fact that they were all so irreversibly changed by that happened to them as kids that they cant change back to who they once were. He is not the boy you knew. I'm never over how they dealt with the consequences of episode 1 by grant becoming a fundamentally different and unrecognizable person to avoid that curse thing. Like that fucked up his whole shit forever man.

Lark and Sparrow are SO like henry whether they realize it or not. The Lark and bill denbrough parallels <3. They both feel insurmountable crushing guilt over something they think was entirely their fault. They were just kids. They make amends for this in the worst way possible. By trying (and failing) to kill the creature they're guilty for (insert obligatory fma03 ed and sloth reference). They let their guilt consume them. If they cant kill the horror they made whays the point of them living though it

I'm not assigning rigid roles to each character, just noticing the parallels. But I'd say the potential for sparrow and stan to be similar is so interesting. They both try as hard as they can to lead a normal regular life in spite of everything that's happened and yet they fail on that.

I realized immediately ep 1 that nick was like glenn and bill and ect ect with the not being there. But not by choice! But the cycle continues none the less! (I dont know if we'll be able to find nick and have him be reunited with the others in s2 or not. I think they all need to be there and alive to defeat the doodler, to end the eldritch horror that took their world. But if hes not there how do they kill it?)

The concept of nick needing an inhaler but never using it because he doesnt want to be lame in front of his dad vs eddie not needing one but continuing to use it because his mom says he needs it! (Smth smth the unconscious and conscious power their parents have on them smth smth)

Terry holding everyone together like mike is so chefs kiss yes! Terry and (maybe) ben being the most well adjusted of the groups. And well adjusted is very loosely said here because are any of them really? Terry being the researcher and the one to find the spells and the one to try so hard to save everyone he can (like mike).

Instead of just them forgetting the events like in it, they remember it all but the rest of the world forgot. How fucking lonley that must be either way.

Off topic but. One thing about it I adore is the 90s tv miniseries, where out takes place in the 60s in flashbacks and 80s/90s in present time and then in the new movies it take splace in the 80s and the present is the present! The exact 27 year gap between them is insane when you see the production for it had been in production hell since the 2000s!

I'm going to be thinking about these stories for the rest of my life I think...

Feeling the shrimp emotions about this rn.